GIT - Just One of These Days lyrics

[Intro: Polite (Raekwon)] Let's do it (blicka blao) hahaha yeah (Blicka blao) somebody said they owe Tony a lil bit of bread Tony, yeah (yeah), uh uh (let's go Lite, let's do it Ice Water style C'mon, let's go) [Polite] Yo it's three individuals, three different attitudes Fat Tony own it all, mafia gratitude (Ain't nothing funny man, yo, it's Tony man He sounds a little pissed off, I think he wants his money man) Yo SI stand up, the event just started Back to commence the prince, don't get me started Take it back to '88 with the square top maxes Underground money so the feds don't tax us Hip-hop b-boys from the hood to the guedos Slums in Texas, ya'll reckless, but ya'll still my peoples Take money money, take money money money You took a lil too much, now you can't do much (Listen man, if Tony catch him, he gon put that fat to him) If you got cash, homie, give that back to him Everything will be good, and everything will be hood And everything will go the way it should [Chorus X2: P.C.] It's just one of them days Yeah everything was right in the hood But in the night, we was up to no good It's just one of them days Hustlas, thieves and gamblas The world love us, and ya'll can't stand us [Raekwon] From the days of guzzling Yak to playing Ms. Pac Now it's on, automatic, ya'll will get sacked I'm a stealer that'll pull out the smiff on you, cash a check And now I'm on my way to flight, Pittsburg These old n***as got a tab on me A few of them want us dead, it's Fat Tony and his a calvary Sneak past the two thousand dollars, we stashed it There he go, it's Riviera, fat f**ing cheap ba*tard Now what we gon do is breeze I kept the weight, smelling the trees Now we up in OCBs Should we get our money back? Please I'd rather give turkey and cheese Tell his little fat a** freeze [Chorus X2] [P.C.] I remember back in '88, cat's pushing crazy weight In my pops Cadillac with the baby face Now I'm where the cops at, trying to make that cake With a two finger ring and a name plate We all in the same race, life's a struggle I love getting bread, but I don't even like the hustle If we fight, I'm more then like to cut you Cuz back in the day, there was no guns, we had to fight with knuckles Hangin out where the thugs at We was goin to school, leather garments with the gloves to match The game ain't changed, brothas still bubbling crack And the plan was hand to hand, just to double it back And you gotta have something to stack Cuz these New York streets nowadays ain't nothin but rats Dice games, nice change, get one in your hat They called for your bread, and you ain't gettin none of it back [Chorus X2]